


half a dozen (very bad ideas)

by persimonne



Category: Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And I've watched Logan Lucky while drunk, Bodily Fluids, Dumbsexual Rey, Egg Laying, Enemies to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Exophilia, F/M, Forgive Me, Gross, Hiking, Huddling For Warmth, I know nothing about West Virginia, Monsterfucking, Mothlo, Mothlogan, Mothsexual Rey, Oviposition, Painful Sex, Reylo - Freeform, Reylogan, Sex In A Cave, Terathophilia, Walks In The Woods, Whateversexual Clyde Logan, enemies to fuck buddies, enthusiastic consent that becomes mildly dubious and returns enthusiastic, super gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 13:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17509109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persimonne/pseuds/persimonne
Summary: Clyde Logan hides a secret identity, but he's forced to reveal his alter ego to defrauder Rey Johnson, accidentally filling her up with moth eggs in the meantime. Yikes!





	half a dozen (very bad ideas)

**Author's Note:**

> I have to thank Leoba for betaing this monsterfucking galore <3 Thank you so much!!!
> 
> This is exactly what it says on the label: if you don't like Mothman, oviposition and monsterfucking, close the tab.

“What. The. Fuck.” Clyde muttered between his teeth, crushing the crumpled newspaper on the countertop, toppling an empty glass with his prosthetic hand.

He was lucky that it was a business day and his bar was almost empty, save for an old drunkard sleeping on a table in the farthest end of the room. He cleaned up the shards of glass before he might accidentally stomp on them, and, after taking a huge breath, he returned his gaze to the newspaper, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

ARE YOU READY FOR A TRULY LEGENDARY TRIP?  
THIS SATURDAY, LET’S RETRACE MOTHMAN’S STEPS.

LIVE WITH US THE MOST GENUINE WEST VIRGINIA EXPERIENCE!  
A WHOLE DAY OF HIKING, ADMIRING THE MAJESTIC MOUNTAINS,  
AND MOTHWATCHING WITH MOTHS AND CRYPTIDS EXPERT REY JOHNSON.

250 dollars - advanced payment via paypal (moth.scavenger@jedimail.com)  
Participants are responsible for their own hiking gear and packed lunch.

 

Two hundred and fifty dollars. Clyde barely restrained himself from punching the countertop again. This self-proclaimed expert was a through and through scammer. This Rey Johnson was asking a lot of money to bring people on a hiking trip to see Mothman, but he was more than sure that Mothman wasn’t currently dwelling in the mountains. Mothman was living in the apartment above his bar. Mothman was Clyde Logan’s best kept secret. No one knew that he had been cursed with the ability to transform in a giant moth, not even his siblings.

He huffed, swiping back his hair from his forehead with his flesh hand. He hadn’t worried about Mothman–about that other side of himself since his first days in Iraq, where he’d briefly transformed during a full moon night, luckily managing to hide in a cave before wreaking havoc in his campsite, and returning the following morning, barefoot and half-naked, under his comrade’s whistles.

It had all started during the late nineties, in Point Pleasant: he was only a teenager, wandering slightly drunk after having been to the movies with his friends. They’d stopped their car in a secluded area on the outskirts of town, to share a joint and some naughty anecdotes from school, when a shadow with two red, shiny eyes had fallen on them, breaking the windshield and hitting him full force. He’d awoken after a few hours, two tiny pinpricks on his neck, while his friends were lying unconscious, but unscathed, around him.

From that moment, his life had changed for the worst. Completely unaware of his new abilities, the following month he’d been caught by surprise by the full moon, transforming into the same creature that had mauled him during that fateful night. Luckily, he’d limited himself to roaming the woods around his house, without meeting animals or people, his human brain still vigilant and able to reason despite the metamorphosis.

After that episode, he’d tried to keep track of the lunar cycles, keeping indoors during those times of the month, in the bar or in his room. His decision to enlist in the army had been partially made because of his condition, but his experience in the special forces hadn’t been useful in the long run. Iraq hadn’t got him glory, or new friends, or a partner, and, on top of that, he’d lost another piece of himself: his left hand. And now, on top of everything there was someone using his curse to scam innocent people.

He huffed again, his cheeks puffing. After closing the bar, he returned behind the counter to pull a beer for himself, switched his old laptop to look for this Rey guy on Facebook. He found five different men with the same name, scattered around the globe, but none of them was located in West Virginia. He began typing an email to that damned Rey Johnson, then. He could try to bust his deceit, making himself useful at least.

 

_Hey there,_

_I’m interested in the trip to see Mothman. Could you give me more details?_

_Clyde_

 

After a couple of minutes, the bar’s phone rang. It was past midnight, and he hesitated before picking up the call. Seeing that the phone kept ringing, he finally answered.

“Hello?”

A definitely feminine voice answered from the other end of the line, her accent foreign, maybe british. She sounded like one of those Downton Abbey posh actresses.

“Hey, Rey Johnson here. Are you Clyde?”

“I– yeah. How did you get this number?”

“There is the name of your bar in your email address, and I found it in the yellow pages.”

Clyde’s breath hitched. She was clever. No wonder she was a master scammer.

“What kind of information do you need before the trip?” she continued, without letting him continue.

“Uh– how long will the trip last?” he improvised, since he hadn’t expected to talk with her on the phone.

“We’ll meet at 8:30 in the morning in the Sears parking lot, out at the mall, then we’ll head towards our destination by car. You’ll have to wear hiking boots, bring a windbreaker and a hat. Don’t forget to pack a light lunch and water, we’ll return in the late afternoon.”

Clyde stopped for a second. How could they see Mothman during the day? He was able to transform by night only. He avoided raising further doubts, asking another random question instead.

“Can I pay you on Saturday morning?”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve already been bailed on too many times. I’m accepting PayPal transactions only, preferably before Thursday evening.”

“That’s… alright,” he answered. He could invest two hundred fifty bucks to finally expose this cheater. “See you on Saturday morning then.”

“8:30, at the mall. Good night!”

Clyde finished sipping his beer, foretasting his victory against her and wondering how many innocent people she’d already tricked into her fraud. He could finally be useful and do some good, instead of wallowing in his misery as usual.

 

* * *

 

 

On Saturday morning he made sure to reach at the mall at 8:20, watching the employees and the elderly customers arrive too early and wait impatiently for the doors to open: sadly, there was no one resembling that Lady Mary wench in the whole parking lot. He kept waiting in his car, and at 8:45, there wasn’t the faintest shadow of that Johnson girl.

At 9, he decided to find the nearest gas pump to fill up his car, in case she’d had problems while driving there and he would need to help her somehow. He entered the gas station to pay for his gas and order a coffee, and his attention was immediately caught by a familiar, posh accent: Rey was there. Rey was there, and she was arguing with the cashier; it sounded like her credit card hadn’t been accepted. The poor guy, red as a pepper, was completely at her mercy.

“What do you mean by don’t you have cash? Is this the proper way to treat a customer?” she squealed. “I want to speak with the manager.”

“Hey,” interrupted Clyde, addressing the cashier. “How much is this young lady’s gas?” He’d already gifted two hundred fifty bucks to the girl, he could afford adding a few dollars, especially after the NASCAR coup.

“Th-thirty dollars, sir,” answered the boy, sweat beading over his brow.

“Hey, I can pay for my own stuff,” blurted out Rey. “My card is working perfectly fine, it’s this gas station in the middle of nowhere that’s having problems.”

“Don’t worry, I can cover this,” he announced sternly, paying also for his fill and his coffee. His card was accepted on the first try, and the cashier finally dried his forehead with a sleeve.

“Fine, but I’m not going out with you,” she stated, exiting the small building, her nose upturned.

She sounded and looked posh. She was quite tall and slender, with straight brown hair and a pale, freckled face, but her clothes visibly clashed with her attitude. They were faded and ratty, but not in the “fake hand-me-down” look that was the latest trend. Clyde took a deep breath, and decided to confront her.

“I think you’ll go out with me just fine.” he smiled, showing his crooked teeth. “We had an appointment almost an hour ago, over at the mall. I’m Clyde.” He extended his right hand towards her, waiting for her introduction.

She looked at his flesh hand, then her gaze fell on the left one, the new prosthetic black and shiny under the morning light. He flexed his fingers, as to demonstrate her that it was working perfectly. The move usually made people feel queasy, but the girl didn’t seem particularly impressed.

“I’m Rey, but you already know that.” She didn’t shake his hand, her gaze still fixed on the artificial limb.

“You seem almost disappointed,” remarked Clyde, waiting for her to finally take his extended hand.

“I’m just tired,” she stated flatly, turning towards her old, rusty Ford. “Are we taking my car or yours?”

 

* * *

 

 

Rey kept silent for the whole journey, nibbling at her lips and her cuticles. They took Clyde’s car, since hers didn’t even seem in the right shape to face the short trip from the gas pump to the beginning of the trail. Clyde asked her a few questions, and she gave him monosyllabic answers while looking outside of the passenger window. She didn’t bring anything with her from her car, and he briefly wondered if she was really intending to climb a mountain with her well-worn canvas converse.

“I don’t know where I’m heading, can you explain where this trail is?” he asked, and she finally turned in his direction.

“Just keep driving, I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Clyde kept driving, looking at this Rey from time to time with the corner of his eyes. All gloomy and skittish, she was beginning to grate on his nerves: wasn’t she supposed to be a guide? Those people were always too cheerful in his opinion, but she was behaving strangely. However, he decided not to bother her, and let her stew in her own misery.

Just before a huge red arrow saying “CAMPING”, she finally told him to stop the car, and he parked it between two other vehicles. There was only a tent at the campsite, and an old roulotte with a flat tire – reflection of the off season, or the economic crisis ongoing from the last decade.

After exiting the car, he opened the trunk to fetch his hiking gear: he put on a faded sweater, a baseball cap and his old but seldom used hiking boots. He had packed some sandwiches and water bottles in his mimetic backpack, while Rey only had a small knapsack, that seemed sadly empty.

“Don’t you have proper shoes?”

“These will do,” she shrugged, and began walking ahead of him.

“How can you say that? Those– those aren’t the right shoes for walking around in the woods, you could fall and break your ankle, what kind of guide–”

“I know the trail like the back of my hand, these shoes are more than adequate!” she seethed back at him, leaving him befuddled.

“And– and the others?” he rebutted. “Where are the other participants? Why are we alone?”

She stopped abruptly and turned, sticking her index finger between his pectorals, “I think that we should concentrate on the positive things of this trip, and not the negative ones, or you’ll ruin this beautiful morning with your sour attitude. What do you think, Captain Hook?”

He opened his mouth, surprised by her sudden change of demeanor. “O– okay.”

“Wonderful,” she exclaimed, starting to walk again in front of him. “It’s not our fault that the people living here lack good taste in cryptids.”

“Good taste in– “

“When did you become a Mothman devotee?” She changed topic again, without even permitting him to answer her. “I read about it when I was in elementary school. I was looking for old newspapers for my foster father in our garage, he needed them to paint our fence. I kept several issues of the _Point Pleasant Register_ , where they described the first sightings, hiding those under my bed to read them at night, with a flashlight. What about you?”

Clyde didn’t know how to answer. _“Oh, that flying creature they saw in Point Pleasant was the same one that bit me years later, during my adolescence, and now I’m so lucky to transform in a monster during the full moon,”_ was out of the question, so he tried to deflect the conversation.

“So, are you from Point Pleasant then? I thought you were british, from your accent.”

She’d said that she knew the trail very well, but she kept stumbling on logs and she seemingly had no idea how to avoid low branches. Clyde scoffed.

“Yes and no,” she exhaled, almost twisting her ankle in a small dip on the trail, codered by leaves. “I was born in England, but my parents died when I was five, and they shipped me here to live with an old family friend. He got arrested when I was twelve, and I went back to England.”

“Why did you come back? There’s nothing here…” he observed, surprised by her decision.

“My foster father died last month in prison, and he left me his house. I’m here to finish my PhD in lepidoptery.”

Clyde almost facepalmed. He wasn’t sure she was telling the truth, at this point. Why inventing a cryptid sightseeing tour if she already had a house and a scholarship? If the university wasn’t paying her, couldn’t she look for job that didn’t prey upon people’s ingenuity?

“Is your house in Point Pleasant, then?”

“No, it’s not too far from here, I have no idea why my foster father had those _Point Pleasant Register_ issues in our garage, actually. Maybe it was fate?”

“The same fate that ruined my life forever,” he murmured, hoping that she couldn’t hear his grumbling.

“Pardon? What did you say?” she asked, avoiding a low branch on her nose at the last second.

She definitely wasn’t behaving like an expert guide. So far, she had only followed the orange trail blazes, but anyone could be able to do that.

“Oh, I said that I became interested in the Mothman… legend during my adolescence. Before I’ve never cared too much,” he answered.

“How so?”

“I… saw it in Point Pleasant, when I was going home from the movies with some friends.”

She stopped walking, turning towards him again.

“When did it happen?”

“Does it matter? I was fifteen at the time.”

“Of course it matters! You’re the first person to see Mothman between the sixties and his return, in 2016! Why didn’t you report the sighting to the police, or the newspaper?”

Clyde clenched his jaw, worried. 2016? Someone had busted him flying around during his metamorphosis, then. He had always been cautious, holing himself up in his apartment or flying in the woods farthest from houses and villages. Who had spotted him?

“We were scared, and we told everyone that we’d hit a deer with our car. The windshield was broken, and we needed the insurance money to repair it.”

“You’re so lucky! I’m jealous,” she exclaimed, beginning to walk again. They were proceeding very slowly, no wonder the trip would have lasted until the late afternoon.

“Believe me, we almost died. I wouldn’t do it again, if I could.”

“Did you manage to see it clearly? What does it look like?”

Clyde involuntarily began describing himself. During one of his first transformations, he had passed a whole night in front of the mirror, observing his new features carefully. He had always thought of himself as ugly, but after the accident, he definitely considered himself a real monster.

“He’s tall, huge, his eyes shine red when hit by a direct light.”

“That’s curious, because moths don’t actually have any kind of tapetum lucidum,” she interrupted. “But everyone who has met Mothman describes it with red eyes... What about its wings?”

“He has a huge wingspan.” He thought about describing the pattern of his wings, but he decided not to give her too many details. “The underside of his wings was pretty dark, and I could count th– four arms and two legs.”

Rey’s eyes were shiny and huge.

“I can’t believe you had the luck to see him so well. So many details! That’s absolutely stunning!” She winked at him, almost in a flirtatious way. “I hope we’ll manage to catch the patterning of its wings, when we’ll meet it later.”

“How can you be so sure to see Mothman during the day?” he taunted. “Aren’t moths nocturnal insects?”

“They’re not insects, they’re lepidoptera! There’s a huge difference!” She exclaimed, piqued, but she didn’t answer his first question and kept silent for several minutes, starting to walk faster. Clyde heard distant thunder reverberate between the mountains, but Rey didn’t acknowledged the likelihood of an impending storm.

He took advantage of her foul mood to consider his situation, and counted in his head how many days he had until the next full moon, and the next metamorphosis. He could try to discover where Rey lived, to scare her, maybe give her a little lesson about the real Mothman. Sadly, he couldn’t remember the exact date of the full moon night. He had the correct day marked on a calendar in the employees toilet of his bar, and he was sure it would be within a couple of days, maybe on Sunday or Monday. He scoffed seeing that every month it was the same, old story: he sorely needed a planner, or one of those huge phones people with two hands were so fond of.

“Hey!” He shouted, to catch Rey’s attention and ask her if she had a smartphone: she was several feet in front of him, and she was still walking a tad too fast, stumbling every few steps.

She didn’t answer, and began running.

“Hey!” Shouted again Clyde, befuddled by her behaviour. “Where are you going?”

She fell down on her knees, but promptly got back on her feet, keeping her foolish run in the middle of the woods. He sprung into action, covering the distance between them in a heartbeat: she was tall and quick, but he had longer legs and the right kind of shoes to face the tricky undergrowth. She tried to run faster but soon fell again, her foot caught in a root covered by leaves. He fell upon her like a bird of prey, catching her by her slender waist and lifting her up.

“Let me go!” she cried.

She began kicking, as though she was trying to hit his groin or one of his knees, but he managed to catch her in an impromptu bridal carry, blocking her upper body with his real arm, and her legs with his prosthetic one. She struggled, imprisoned in his vise-like grip, but he didn’t budge, standing between the trees and trying to avoid getting bitten. She was almost like a feral cat, her body trapped but her fangs ready to strike.

“You shouldn’t bite random people, you never know what diseases they might carry,” he stated flatly.

“Put me down immediately, then!” she barked.

“Will you promise to behave? We’re the only poor devils in these woods, running away would be stupid.”

Rey nodded, and he promptly set her free. Once her feet touched the uneven ground, she snapped, trying to run away again, but he caught her again after a couple of seconds.

“So, I can’t trust you, that’s fine,” he said, squeezing her against his chest and fishing blindly in a low pocket of his backpack, while she tried to bite him again. He put his right hand over her face, pushing it almost under his armpit until he managed to extricate several feet of bright climbing rope. He slipped it through the belt loop of her jeans, securing it with an efficient knot he learned in the army. More distant thunder reminded him of the incoming storm.

“There, now you can’t run away,” he stated. “Care for an explanation?”

Rey looked at him like he was her worst enemy.

“Well, let me tell you what I got so far then. We surely won’t see Mothman today.”

“How– how can you say tha–”

“You’re not a real guide,” he interrupted her.

She lowered her gaze, suddenly very interested in her shoes.

“Maybe you’re not even an expert about moths, I don’t care,” he continued. “I care about the fact that you just tried to make off in this fuckin’ wood, leaving me alone after I’ve paid you two hundred and fifty bucks in advance.”

She kept silent as a tombstone, her gaze downturned.

“And this morning? This morning you were bailing on me, we met at the gas station by chance, didn’t we?” Clyde had never felt more clever that now in his whole life. “That’s why you don’t have any hiking equipment, we were never meant to be here.”

Rey’s eyes were burning with hatred, “I was hoping to reach at least a thousand dollars, but you were the only person stupid enough to answer the ad.”

Clyde started laughing so hard that his voice boomed through the trees, causing flocks of birds to fly away in fright. Rey was barely restraining her rage, but he had her well secured thanks to the climbing rope looped through her jeans: trying to run away again was not a viable option.

“Is Rey Johnson your real name at least?”

“Do you want to call the police on me?” she blurted out. “Please don’t. I will suck your dick.”

“Wha–” Clyde’s eyes bulged, and his cheek coloured.

She unbuttoned her cardigan, abandoning it on the ground, and lifted her t-shirt up, exposing her small, perky tits to his befuddled gaze. Her nipples were hard and dark against her pale skin, and the view was making him quite uncomfortable, his trousers suddenly too tight.

“You’re indecent! Have some modesty! Cover yourself!” he cried, having been alone for too much time to remain unaffected by her.

“Come on,” she whispered, caressing her breasts. “You can take whatever you want.”

Clyde turned his back on her, his cock quite hard, “I won’t call the police, I swear.”

“I don’t understand what you want, then,” she said, almost surprised. “I’ll refund your money tonight, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that. Promise me that you’ll never use Mothman to scam people again, and we’re okay,” he stated. “Now put your shirt back on, and let’s go back. I have already lost too much time from this ruse of yours.”

“You’re a weirdo. There, I’m covered. You can look.”

He turned around, and she was finally dressed again.

“Just… don’t use Mothman for your scams, I mean it,” he repeated.

“Why are you so fixated on that? Is Mothman your fursona? Did it kill your family?”

“That’s none of your business,” he said, perusing the trees around them.

Tugging on the rope to make her follow him, he looked around for the orange plastic blazes nailed to the trees. There were none. The thunder clapped again, and this time Rey looked at the sky, worry etched on her face.

“Your little run has taken us too far from the trail. Tell me you have a compass, at least,” he mumbled.

She shrugged. “I haven’t. I’m not a guide, remember?”

“Shit.” He searched thoroughly his backpack, emptying every pocket. “I’m afraid my niece has mine. We’re on our own.”

The first droplets began falling from the sky, and he boomed, “We have to look for a shelter, a storm is coming!”

Rey could only follow him. Even with a prosthetic hand, he was quite fast and unlike her he didn’t have any problem hiking the uneven ground. The rain soon became more insistent, and they finally reached a clearing, with more rocks than trees around them. Rey slowed down, trying to catch her breath, but he kept running, tugging on the rope that imprisoned her.

“Down there! There’s a little cave, I can see the opening!”

Rey tried to keep up with his gait, but one of her shoes untied, and she tripped.

“Stop!” she cried, tugging at the rope. “I have to tie my shoes again, I need to stop.”

Without uttering a word, he came back and lifter her like before, in an impromptu bridal carry, and hauled her towards their shelter. Rey latched her hands behind his neck and, in a moment of weakness, he dreamt about finding a partner at last, someone he could carry like this, feeling strong and useful. But the person in his arms was anything but a potential love interest, so he gave himself a figurative pinch, and stopped daydreaming.

They were drenched. Once they reached the shelter he let her down, but she took her time letting go of him and he pushed her away, as though to protect himself from some sort of disappointment.

“Hey, don’t push me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to squeeze his hair, while his stomach grumbled.

He checked the time on his watch: it was well past lunchtime, so he unpacked one of his huge sandwiches, sat down in a corner and started eating, checking on Rey from time to time. She was fiddling with her wet clothes, as if to keep herself distracted while he was eating. When her stomach began rumbling as well, as though to imitate the thunder above them, he connected the dots: she didn’t have anything to eat. He fished his other sandwich from his backpack, and threw it at her. She caught it, mumbling a subdued “Thank you,” and began eating.

Clyde was utterly fascinated with her. She ate like she’d never tasted a sandwich before, devouring everything quickly and with voracity. He couldn’t help thinking about what she’d said earlier about her dead parents and her foster father: maybe her situation really was desperate. He was beginning to feel pity for her. He balled up the sandwich baggy, put it in his backpack and waited for her to finish, then he collected her trash too. They shared his water, drinking from the same bottle, and she took some kind of pill in the meantime.

“So, is your name Rey for real? You didn’t answer before.”

She nodded.

“What about your PhD?”

“That’s real too, even if everyone thinks that’s a joke. There aren’t many people studying lepidoptery.”

“I can imagine. I didn’t go to college... I enlisted right after high school. My grades weren’t good, I’ve always been real dumb, you know?”

“I’m sure that’s not true, there are many different kinds of intelligence. You busted me after all.”

“Nah, that’s just luck. If I hadn’t met you at the gas station, you wouldn’t be trapped here with me. You’d be enjoying your two hundred and fifty bucks in town.”

“And yet, we’re here, drenched to the bone, waiting for the storm to stop.” She shrugged, a smile on her face.

She wasn’t that bad, after all. Clyde thought again about how she’d disrobed herself earlier, ready to have sex with him, but he promptly berated himself: she’d done that only to distract him and run away again. In his experience, a cute girl like her would never give a guy like him a second glance. All her escape attempts were making him smile now, and seeing how keeping her tied was now quite useless because of the storm, he approached her to undo the impromptu harness he’d put together with the climbing rope.

“Why the scam? If you need money, I can help you,” he asked her while removing the rope from her belt loops.

She followed the movement of his prosthetic hand, enthralled, “No thanks.”

“Why not? If you’re uncomfortable accepting money, you could work at my bar.”

“I’ve said no, I don’t have time for that. But we can have sex if you want.”

“Don’t say that,” he mumbled.

“Why not? I’m not your type?” She began circling him like a bird of prey, but he didn’t answer. “I meant what I said, before.”

He kept silent, standing awkwardly in the middle of the shelter. His dick was becoming hard again.

“If it’s about your arm, I don’t care. You still have another hand, and a mouth, and your cock.”

He looked away, the dusty corner at his left suddenly very interesting.

“I really don’t care about your arm, Clyde.” She winked. “Maybe it could even provide a fun, new experience, who knows?”

“What the fuck did you say?” he seethed. “Are you mocking me?”

He was on her in a heartbeat, his nose clashing against hers, his right hand clasped around her head, his left one on her shoulder, hoping to not squeeze her too hard.

“Say it again,” he panted against her mouth.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, biting his full, lower lip.

Clyde’s whole body pushed her smaller one against the rock wall, engulfing it whole. He couldn’t believe what she’d said to him only a few seconds before, but her actions were speaking for themselves: she was feasting on his full lips with a ferocity he’d never experienced before in his wretched life. He answered with enthusiasm, biting back and exploring her with his warm tongue, while Rey’s hands traveled across his chest and down to reach his groin. How he wished to still had both hands, so he could touch her like she deserved!

She abandoned his mouth only to open his fly and free his poor dick, constricted by his wet pants. Clyde remained speechless when she got on her knees and began mouthing at his purplish glans, her hand pushing back his foreskin and her tongue caressing his frenulum with abandon. He could have died right there, and he would have died happy.

The contented hums she was making while sucking his cock were making him feel light-headed, but he didn’t want to take without giving back anything, so he lifted Rey up, his hands under her armpits, and clashed his mouth against hers once more.

“I want to fuck you so bad, but I don’t have a condom with me,” he panted between kisses. “I never would’ve guessed this could happen.”

“It’s your lucky day, Captain Hook,” she smiled, her eyes shiny and her lips puffy for every bite he’d given her. “I have _two_ condoms in my knapsack.”

He couldn’t believe his luck. “Condom it is, then.”

 

* * *

 

 

When the storm ended, it was already dark. After using both condoms, and their hands, and their mouths to explore each other’s bodies, they had managed to light a small fire with some thankfully dry chunks of wood they’d found in the back of the cave, and they’d used the climbing rope to hang their clothes to dry. Clyde had luckily forgot to remove a thin sleeping bag from his backpack from the last time he’d used it, and now they were all cozy and warm, spooning naked in front of the fire.

He kissed her shoulder while she caressed his left arm, where skin met prosthesis. This was his first time with anyone since his accident, and he still couldn’t believe Rey didn’t see his handicap as a huge obstacle like everyone else he’d met so far. He briefly wondered about his secret, about being Mothman, and telling everything to her. She’d been quite enthusiastic about the cryptid so far, but knowing that she’d had sex with a man that also was a giant moth was an entirely different kettle of fish.

“The clouds are dispersing, It seems that we’ll have a beautiful, full moon tonight,” she announced, promptly yawning.

“No, it’s not full yet, it will be tomorrow or the day after,” corrected her Clyde.

“Nope, it’s tonight. Look at how it shines behind the clouds!” she fished her phone from her nearby knapsack, to show him the lunar calendar, but it was dead.

Clyde began to panic. He’d forgotten to ask her to check that during the afternoon, and now they were stuck together, alone in that little cave in the middle of nowhere. Something buried deep in his conscience knew she was right, and he needed to stay away from her during the metamorphosis. He scrambled to get on his feet.

“What the fuck?” she cried, finding herself twisted in the sleeping bag, while he was trying to untie the rope with all their clothes still hanging on it.

“Rey, I can’t stay here anymore. I’ll go into the woods, and we’ll meet here at dawn, to go back.”

“Are you nuts?” she barked at him, disentangling her legs from the sleeping bag and kneeling in front of him. “I’m not going to stay here alone, get your shit together!”

“You don’t know who I am, Rey. You don’t know what I am.”

“I’ve sucked your dick and you had your huge nose between my thighs an hour ago, I’d say it’s a bit late to try to be all tall, dark and mysterious, don’t you think?”

Clyde was about to answer, but in the dark blue sky the cloud finally made space for the full moon, and hairy antennae began to grow from the top of his head. He was already transforming. He felt all his skin becoming fuzzy, and a new pair of arms spurting from his torso, while his prosthetic hand fell to the ground with a loud metallic noise: she was right, the full moon was today. And he was trapped in his Mothman form with a gorgeous disinhibited girl he’d busted scamming dupes in the local newspaper. He didn’t want her to run away in the middle of nowhere at night, but it was almost inevitable at this point; his wings were already beginning to spread from behind his back.

“What– what the fuck, Clyde?” Her mouth was open, and her eyes were shining with curiosity and glee. “You’re Mothman! I can’t believe it!”

“Don’t panic, please, I’ll go in the woods as soon as my win–” She didn’t even let him finish, throwing herself at him, her arms tight around his fuzzy collar.

“I can’t believe it! Oh my God!” she shouted in his ear. “Let me see you… Why did I let my phone die, I feel so stupid! You’re gorgeous.”

Clyde couldn’t believe his ears.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” she squealed, angling his face towards the fire. “I already thought you were cute, but I have to correct myself, you’re downright stunning.”

“I– I always thought I was a monster,” he replied, bewildered by her sincere and amazed words, and the unshed tears in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“That’s just some good old Stendhal syndrome, I’m afraid,” she admitted, shaking.

“Do you have your medication with you?” he asked, worried.

“Oh, Clyde!” she shrieked with laughter, kissing him on his dark grey lips, and humming contentedly when she met his pointy, long tongue. “Is this because of the moon?”

He nodded, suddenly shy.

“Will it last for the whole night, then?” she exhaled. “Please, make love to me.”

“Like this?” he asked, worry etched on his angular features. “Do you really want me, like this?”

She nodded, tears finally flowing free, “I always knew that we were meant to meet, one day. I’ve always thought about you, since I read those old newspapers, for every single day of my life. Other girls my age were hanging boyband posters on their bedroom walls, but mine was covered with moths. I can’t believe my dream is finally coming true.”

Clyde squeezed her between his three and a half arms, his breath stolen by her words, his heart thundering. His head was spinning, and his legs were so weak he was sure he was about to faint. Never, in his wildest dreams, would he have imagined experiencing such feelings, with a girl he’d met by chance while reading the local newspaper.

“We used all the condoms,” he panicked for a moment.

“I’m on the pill too, don’t worry.”

At her words, his antennae fluttered, as to imprint on her unique scent. They returned to the sleeping bag and she started massaging his whole body, making him unsure if he was shuddering with physical pleasure, or because of her acceptance. Her elegant hands touched the peachy skin covering his limbs with reverence and lightly caressed his dusty, dark wings, paying attention to how he was breathing and burying her fingers where the fuzz was longer. He almost teared up when she touched the amputated hand on his left side, thinking how this part of him had always caused him unhappiness, until he’d met Rey.

He’d always been alone during his metamorphosis, so even the slightest touch caused his strange, wondrous cock to rise from the thick fuzz covering his groin where it had been buried until now, making her gasp in surprise, and him tremble with the fear of rejection, an old feeling he was well acquainted with. She examined his appendage with an almost religious reverence, licking her lips as to anticipate what was going to happen next.

“If this works,” she whispered, “I want to be with you during the next full moon, and the one after that.”

When she laid her fingers on his hardness, he closed his eyes, praying that she would want to stay with him for every full moon of his life. He knew his cock was very strange and big now, with a lot of foreskin and a huge, round head sporting a cross opening on its top. He’d already experienced orgasming in this moth form, but nothing had come out from that curious opening before. Now, instead, it was leaking with a clear, sticky moisture that Rey promptly licked away with her curious tongue, making his heart skip a beat.

“I want to lick you too,” he rasped, pushing her on her side and opening her thighs.

She complied, offering herself to him and reaching for his cock again while he dove between her legs, separating her folds with one of his three hands and tasting her moisture with his long, grey tongue. She cried with pleasure when she felt his textured muscle probe at her engorged clit, it wasn’t like anything she’d felt before, bringing her to a quick orgasm that made her hum around Clyde’s cock, safely nested in her mouth.

“You’re so wet, even wetter than before,” he observed, probing her opening with a finger and enjoying how it slid inside her body, without any kind of friction whatsoever.

Her ministrations were making him incredibly wet too, copious amounts of fluids leaking from his cross-shaped meatus. They both were more than ready.

“I’m going to fuck you,” she answered, getting on her knees and squatting over his length. “Is this okay?”

He nodded, and while he kept himself steady with one of his hands, she slowly impaled herself, his huge, bulbous head breaching her drenched folds and making both of them moan, their voices reverberating in the small cave. He was quite surprised by the fact that he didn’t feel the overwhelming need to come he always struggled with while fully human, as if he was in need of a further push to reach that goal. So, he relaxed and greatly enjoyed Rey’s movements over him: she was slowly massaging his cock with her scorching hot inner walls, an inch at a time, her cheeks and her perky breasts sporting blotches of red under the pale moonlight.

She finally reached the base of his cock, her damp curls meeting his equally damp fuzz, and she moaned, causing his hips to jerk and his member to push against her cervix.

“That’s too much,” she exhaled, breathless. “Let’s change position?”

He nodded, and she presented her backside to him, her folds and puckered hole glistening in the dim firelight. He got on his knees and slid effortlessly into her cunt, thrusting slowly as to avoid hitting her sensitive cervix again. He caught her hips with two of his hands, and he used his remaining one to massage her pussy after spitting on his long, huge fingers, as their intermingled wetness wasn’t enough.

“Yes,” she keened, and he squeezed her clit between his fingertips.

He kept thrusting slowly inside of her, admiring how her muscled back was arching with pleasure every time he pinched at her in the right way, so he slid two fingers around her clit and began playing with her hood, making it roll around her hard bundle of nerves, until she was writhing beneath him.

“Yesyesyesyes,” she chanted, her tight pussy squeezing rhythmically around his cock. “Keep touching, keep touching.”

And he did. He rolled her clit between his fingers again and a second orgasm washed over her, but despite her inner muscles working beautifully around him, his cock didn’t seem to cooperate. Apparently, no coming for him, even if he kept thrusting inside of her willing body.

“Hey, what’s wrong,” she panted. “Do you need a rest?”

“Maybe? I’ve no idea how this body works, I’ve never been with anyone.”

“So, did I just pop your moth virginity?” She laughed.

“Indeed you did,” he laughed back, but he soon stopped, noticing that his cock wasn’t budging from her pussy. “I think there may be a problem here.”

“Shit,” she whispered, trying to get away from him, but to no avail. “Help me get on my side?”

They managed to change position, and he tried again to extricate his cock from her, without any success whatsoever.

“I’m so sorry,” he whined, heartbeat speeding up and the sick feeling of pinpricks under his four armpits making him even more agitated.

“Hey, let’s wait for a bit? Maybe it just needs to deflate a little?” she proposed, trying to maintain her apparent calm, but he could clearly discern the faint sheen of sweat beginning to form on her forehead.

He took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on his heartbeat. This was bad.

“Did you come?” she asked.

“No.”

“Maybe you need to come then?”

“I really have no idea, Rey. I don’t even know how to come. This is a disaster, I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s try to be rational for a moment,” she began again, “Your transformation is caused by the full moon, right?”

“Yeah, at dawn I’ll become human again.”

“That’s fine, then, we only have to wait for that. Your dick will transform along with the rest of your body, and we’ll disengage.”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated again, “This is my fault.”

“It takes two to tango, Clyde. Let’s sleep for a little? I’m tired.”

He closed his eyes, embracing her tight, but she soon jerked between his arms.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, very worried.

“I don’t know, I’m having a cramp.”

“Where? My God Rey, this is all my fault,” he rasped.

“Inside, it’s like a… menstrual cramp.” Her voice sounded pained, and she was definitely more sweaty than before. “Your dick is doing something strange down there.”

Clyde was at a complete loss. At the moment he wasn’t feeling anything unusual, save for more moisture leaking from her opening, staining his poor sleeping bag. He probed at the spot where they were joined, noticing that her pussy was still very wet, even if completely stretched around his girth. Since she’d said the pain was coming from her uterus, he kept checking on her pussy: her clit was still engorged from before, and she moaned when he caressed it with his soaked fingertips.

“Does this help?” he asked, hoping to finally soothe her pains.

She nodded, and he continued massaging her swollen nub lightly. She alternated moans of blissful pleasure and more pained ones, and he kept touching her with patience, until he felt something moving inside of him. And it was, if possible, both painful and pleasant at the same time, like it could lead him to his long awaited orgasm.

“What’s happening, Clyde?” she whined “There is something moving inside of me, it… kinda hurts.

“I feel it too,” he panted from behind her, and he pinched harder at her clit, coaxing another orgasm out of her and forgetting the pain. After her contractions began, he was fairly sure he was coming too, but it was one of the most unusual sensations he’d ever felt. It was like his cock had been split in half, and something big was trying to abandon his body to reach hers. The sleeping bag was completely drenched beneath them, and Rey was moaning like she was possessed.

“A–are you okay,” he asked, babbling, his whole body now flooded by waves of pleasure.

She nodded again, too incoherent to put words together, and he adjusted their bodies, catching her neck in his upper right hand, and using the lower ones to work on her pussy, stretching her skin with the left one and massaging her exposed clit with the right one.

If he was at a loss of words because of the sensations he was experiencing, she was utterly delirious, his hand on her neck and his cock deeply nested inside of her the only two things anchoring her to reality. He counted something like five or six peaks of pleasure, the nearest thing to an orgasm he’d experienced since the beginning of the ordeal, but it seemed that her bliss was never ending. He kept plucking viciously at her clit until she came for the last time, her whole being wrecked by spasms, finally permitting his now less swollen cock to slide out of her. They were free, but he took care of her first, massaging her exhausted pussy and whispering sweet nothings in her ears.

“Wow,” she exhaled. “That was… something. What the hell happened?

“I–I have really no idea.”

“Next month I want to come prepared. We’ll stay home, no more rock shelters.”

He was speechless. After everything that had happened, she wanted to see him again?

“We’ll have to study this... mating ritual of yours,” she added. “For science.”

“For science,” he repeated, and helped her to her feet.

He was feeling numb, still dumbstruck by her words. Did she want to see him again? For real? He shook his head.

“I need to pee,” she said. “I feel like a buffalo tried to kick my bladder, it feels squeezed.

Clyde didn’t think about her words at first, keeping himself occupied with the fire, the now dry clothes and trying to clean their intermingled fluids from his sleeping bag. But she soon returned from the back of the cave, looking quite tired.

“I still feel bloated,” she said, her voice betraying distress. “Like I need to push something out of my body.”

He quickly became worried. So worried. What if his stupid monster dick had pierced her insides, and she was now dying? He couldn’t live with himself if something happened to her. She touched her belly and looked at him, her eyes betraying surprise.

“Did you– did you lay eggs inside of me, Clyde?”

He almost felt his fuzzy knees give in, his legs wobbly and his head spinning.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “I didn’t even knew I could do that. I– I have no idea.”

She nodded, lowering herself on the sleeping bag again.

“I’m going to push now. Tell me what happens, I can’t see my own pussy unfortunately.”

He nodded, and she squatted in front of him, her legs wide open. His heart tried to burst out of his chest when he caught a peek of something round jut out from between her stretched labia, accompanied by the usual viscous fluid. He’d just cleaned the sleeping bag, and she was drenching it again. She pushed, and a round, transparent egg left her body, rolling towards him.

“I think there are more,” she panted. “Moths usually lay a lot of eggs.”

He fetched the egg: it fit perfectly in his huge palm and it was squishy and completely transparent, only a faint greenish tint detectable. There was nothing inside, it was completely empty. At least there wasn’t any kind of hard shell.

“Did it hurt?” he asked, positioning the egg on the sleeping bag.

“Yes and no? A bit like before… I mainly feel like I’ve been fucked by a truck.”

He checked on her pussy, and it seemed stretched indeed: probably the second egg was already coming. He couldn’t help feeling guilty for putting her through this, so he soaked his thumb between her lips and pushed lightly against her clit. This was his olive branch, he couldn’t do anything else for her, save for flying her to the nearest hospital, revealing everyone he was Mothman in the process. That wouldn’t be wise in the least.

“That’s… nice,” she moaned, his finger working mind-numbing circles between her legs. “Mmm.”

“Keep going,” he encouraged her. “I’ll touch you for the whole night if that’s necessary.”

She pushed again, and another egg made her exhausted pussy open like a flower. He couldn’t resist the lure to slide his fingers from her clit to the round and slimy surface peeking from between her labia and back, until she pushed again and the egg finally left her stretched body, joining its twin on the sleeping bag. His cock was now jutting proud from his fuzzy groin. He was feeling quite ashamed, but he’d become hard again seeing Rey expel his own eggs, one by one.

“You’ve got an erection,” she moaned. “You’re a perv.”

 

* * *

 

 

Clyde still couldn’t believe that the last twenty-four hours hadn’t been an alcohol-induced dream. He was purring like a giant cat, cradling Rey’s sleeping body in his three and a half arms: she was exhausted after having popped his last egg, the sixth one, from her pussy, after coming again on his fingers. And his mouth. He hadn’t resisted eating her out while she was laying the eggs, his tongue traveling from her nub to their viscous surface, jerking his moth dick in the meantime and experiencing another dry orgasm. He was coming out from this whole fiasco with a fuck buddy and several new kinks.

He stole a glance at the eggs, laying at his feet. Seeing those all together was making him almost giddy, they were inside of him first, then inside of Rey, and now they were slowly deteriorating on his poor sleeping bag.

“Clyde,” she called him, her voice feeble.

“Hey. Is everything okay?”

She nodded, her eyes still heavy from sleep. “I’m glad you answered the ad.”

“I’m glad too,” he replied, kissing her forehead.

“But you were wrong about something.”

Clyde would have lifted a brow, if his moth form had been equipped with brows.

“I had a wonderful encounter with Mothman, today.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My wips: [Bring Kylo Back!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792729/chapters/34222358)
> 
> [The Hand That Feeds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378784/chapters/38333372)
> 
>  
> 
> You can find me on tumbr: persimonne.tumblr.com  
> pillowfort: pillowfort.io/persimonne  
> twitter: persimonne666


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